


It Never Ends, Does It?

by Ottomatonic



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Cullen has become emotionally intelligent over the years I guess, Dragon Age: Inquisition - Trespasser DLC, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Post-Dragon Age: Inquisition - Trespasser DLC, Swearing, bi cullen, married
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-22
Updated: 2020-11-22
Packaged: 2021-03-09 21:21:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,423
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27662615
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ottomatonic/pseuds/Ottomatonic
Summary: The Inquisition has just been disbanded. Ernst Lavellan and his husband, Cullen, are very, very tired.
Relationships: Cullen Rutherford/Original Character(s), Male Lavellan/Cullen Rutherford
Kudos: 19





	It Never Ends, Does It?

"It never ends, does it! Three years, it's been? Just a constant, constant struggle of peacekeeping between creaky old Orleisian and Fereldan Shems who have done nothing but sit on their asses their whole lives, and I'm stopping the fucking world from ending! Those are the two things we do! First Corypheus, and for some reason getting dragged into preventing a murder plot against the queen whilst making sure I use the correct dinner napkin or frigid dance maneuver or whatever the fuck, and now, Mythal have mercy- oh right! Mythal, the Creators, my very own ancestry and religion, have come to actual life! Walking among us! I met her! Do you know what that's like, Cullen? To meet a goddess in which your upbringing is built upon? Imagine if the Maker was standing in front of you, but he was a milf. Imagine that!"

Cullen watched his husband from his place on the corner of the room's bed, pacing around their suite, having just stormed through the door and slamming it, as if the more force he put into it, the more of the outside world was kept out. Cullen rubbed his eyes, fighting exhaustion as he tried very hard not to imagine his Holy One as a "milf" as Ernst had described it.

"And not only do I meet Mythal, but the Dread Wolf is who I just declared basic war with! I'm in a spat over genocide with Fen'Harel! Better round up some dogs, I guess?" He started plucking out the pins and ties from his pale hair, wanting something to do other than wave his arms around in fury. "The hippy nerd who disappeared two years ago also happens to also be the villain in all of the tales of my childhood! How about that! Wild, isn't it!"

Cullen sighed, "We've done it before. We can do it again. We have the experience under our belt-"

"When I destroyed a nearly all-powerful, dragon wielding, godhood pursuing Tevinter Magister from negative 400 Ancient, I didn't exactly think 'well there's one for the ol' resume.' I had the audacity to think, 'Nice, well, time to pursue this new and wonderfully developing relationship I have with my boyfriend and maybe buy a cottage somewhere in the Hinterlands and live out the rest of my days in domesticity riding on the satisfactory wave of a job well done.'"

"It does sound rather appealing," Cullen began to dress out of his formal wear, happy to be rid of it. After a day of formalities, it was a relief to be with his love and just take a moment of respite. Though, that long sought-after respite was a tad difficult, what with the foundations of his current life having just toppled to the ground in front of him and everything.

"Right? It'd be nice. And quiet. And no darkspawn or Red Lyrium or Templars or- or fucking dragons would attack us and it'd be great and nice and quiet! But alas! For some reason, it's up to us to save the world once more! And get this, Cullen, oh, you're gonna love this- per usual, the Shem monarchy has it in their heads that 'hm, sure, all of my citizens may just die, but damn, what about my position of power?'" He reached for a tie and collected his now free hair, moving to put it into a bun and- his breath caught. oh, right. "And I don't have a hand."

Ernst stared down at what would have been palms, plural. There was his left, calloused, scarred, nails bit raw, and… well, there wasn't a right. He flexed his remaining hand and, Creators, he still felt it, too. If he weren't looking, there'd be no thought that his forearm was missing. He reached to feel at the bunched up fabric of his left arm, right where it stopped. He'd tied it there so as to prevent the empty sleeve from getting in the way. Just this morning he'd put up his hair, like he'd done nearly every day of his life. It was an automatic thing by then, just as ingrained as waking up. He let it out of the sleep bun, combed it, braided, and styled it just as his clan had taught him once it grew long enough. He swore, he could still just… feel his fingers, sliding through the air…

Strong arms wrapped around his waist from behind him, and closed his eyes as he felt the warmth envelop him, taking in the comfort and rest that he sorely needed. Cullen said nothing as Lavellan leaned into him, and turned to hug him fully, resting his cheek on the other's shoulder, nuzzling into the soft, worn cotton of the tunic. Neither spoke for a moment, both enjoying the comfort taken within the embrace, knowing that no matter how much changed, that this would be the constant they could hold onto.

It was Cullen who pulled away first, but only to reach for Ernst's left hand and remove the hair tie from his grasp. Before Cullen stepped behind him, Ernst noticed a dark blemish on his shoulder. Ah, he had been crying on it. Great. The elf snorted mucus unattractively, and wiped his cheeks as he felt hands at his scalp, gently collecting the white hair that hung there, briefly running fingers through it before pulling it back and tying it into a bob, just as he himself did every night before. Lips softly touched his neck, and Cullen returned to face him.

"Fenhedis lasa, there's been, just, so much. And our soldiers have sacrificed so much, this is barely anything, I just have to-"

"Ernst," Cullen rested his hands on the sides of the other's face, looking into his dark blue eyes, "it's okay. I mean, it's not okay, but it's okay to cry. And to be angry. You just lost an arm- that's bad. Maker knows you've gotten me through enough withdrawal outbursts to stop me from just sitting here and watch you lock your feelings away. At the war table, at that blasted Winter Palace, you're always so… stoic, I suppose. Calm, decisive. But Ernst, I've known you long enough to know that you do actually feel things-"

'Well, I'd hope so, we are married now, after all," Ernst chuckled.

"Yes, we are," Cullen's heart lifted at the reminder, and at the small smile on his new spouse's face. "And as your husband, I think you deserve to show those emotions. You've dealt with too much to just take it," he paused, “and not to mention, your outburst at the Exalted Council was... quite attractive."

Ernst chuckled and hugged him, not able to get close enough to the man he loved. He looked at the stump where his forearm used to be, leaving only his bicep to drape over Cullen's shoulders. "It's going to be so different now. Gloves, Creators- my staff… sex…"

"Different doesn't necessarily mean bad. Especially sex, because you're great and I love you."

"I love that you still blush when we talk about sex."

"You can't see my face," Cullen laughed.

"So you're telling me you're not blushing right now?"

Cullen couldn't deny he could indeed feel heat on his cheeks.

"As a leader- er, ex-leader of an Inquisition, one must know their ex-commander," Ernst looked up at Cullen, a tug at the side of his mouth.

"And know me you do." Cullen softly pressed his lips to his husband's. It wasn't searching, it wasn't wanting, for they both rest in complete contentment in each other’s presence.

After a moment, they pulled apart, faces just inches apart. "We're both out of a job."

"Ah, commanding the most powerful army in Thedas was getting a little stale anyway." 

"And yet, we still have work to do." Ernst's tucked his head under Cullen's jaw.

"That can be tomorrow's fight."

"I suppose."

Eventually, they retired to their bed. The two lay together, exhausted, but they had the misfortune to be used to fatigue. Weariness paired with the high-quality Orlesian goose feather beds proved effective as their eyes were quick to close. 

"Ernst?" Cullen asked just as they were about to drift.

"Hm?"

"Would you teach me how to braid your hair like you usually do?"

Ernst loved this man with everything he had. He felt his heart skip a beat and his eyes water once more, hugging the man I'm his arms harder as he replied "Yes, I think I can do that."

"I love you."

"Ar lath ma."

**Author's Note:**

> Hello!  
> This is the first fanfic I've written in years. I really wanted to write about the Inquisitor ranting post-Trespasser, because gods, do they deserve it.  
> I also am not physically disabled. I do not have an amputated arm. If I did anything remotely weird or inappropriate with it at all with writing about it, please let me know so I can fix it! Thanks!
> 
> My Tumblr is @ottomatonic. Feel free to say hi!
> 
> (Also please comment because god I'm a glutton for attention)


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